


Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me

by fakeheaux



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Somewhat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeheaux/pseuds/fakeheaux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry meets Niall, and feels a connection, so he gets to know him just a bit more.</p><p>Or the one where Harry and Niall are soulmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laserbeamer (disequilibrium)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disequilibrium/gifts).



> So a couple things before you start: in this story reincarnation will be like a scientifically proven thing. You'll understand as you read, but I just wanted to mention it before hand.
> 
> I hope I did well enough, I truly tried. Title is from A Thousand Years by Christina Perri (even though I don't like Twilight).

Harry has two modes. He can be extremely clumsy, or the most coordinated person on the planet. It's amazing, really, how one day he'll feel like he can't control his own body and the next feel like he could win a gold medal in gymnastics.

He thinks it's the yoga.

Whatever it is, today is one of the clumsy days, and he's just brought himself and two other boys down, along with all their stuff.

"Shit! Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" He stammers, scrambling around to pick up his things. There's a slight wind, and he spent forty hours on that essay and dammit he is _not_ going to lose it.

"S'fine, mate, don't worry about it." An Irish brogue chuckles. Harry looks up and finds himself staring into the brightest blue eyes he's ever seen. He's in awe, really.

"Oh, Niall, watch out." The other boy, this one British, reaches between them, cutting off their gaze. Harry snaps out of his daze and picks up the rest of his stuff.

"Have - have we met before?" Harry asks. The brunet rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

"Past life probably, you know? I probably had twenty kids with you at some point in time, eh?" He laughs. 

Harry nods, but the feeling of familiarity still persists. "Right, right." Past lives have always confused him, but it's been proven with like, science, so he can't say it's not true. "Um, so you're not like hurt, right? I can just go?"

"Um, no." The Irishman, Niall if Harry heard and understood correctly, laughs. They both stand."You have to buy us lunch now. 'S the rule."

The other boy groans. "Niall, it's not a rule! You can't force people to buy you food every time someone so much as looks at you, it's not _reasonable_."

Harry laughs. "No, no, it's fine. Least I can do, right?"

"Damn straight," Niall holds out his hand. "Niall James Horan, music major, at your service."

Harry takes it, taking note of the callouses lining Niall's fingers. "Harry Edward Styles, photography major." He turns to the other boy, who's watching the exchange with raised brows. "And you?"

"Liam James Payne, sound engineering major." He nods.

Brows raised, Harry looks between the two boys. "You realize that you've the same middle name, right?"

Liam laughs, nodding. "Yeah, it's actually the only reason we became friends. Niall wouldn't leave me alone, said it was Fate's way of telling us we were meant to be inseparable." His expression, though amused, screams _bullshit_. "He's been stuck to me since we were sixteen.

Grinning, Niall swings an arm around Liam's shoulders. "Yes it was, Payno, and I was right, wasn't I? So shut up. Now, photography major, where will you be taking us to eat?"

***

Three days later, Niall is sitting at Harry's usual table in the library. With a small smile gracing his lips, Harry walks over.

"Hey." He sets his books down. "Mind if I sit?" He asks.

Niall looks up in a flash of blue. A grin breaks out on his face when he recognizes Harry. "No, no, go ahead." He shuffles some of his stuff aside, giving Harry space.

"Thanks," Harry murmurs, sitting. He opens a textbook to its most recently marked page. "So, music major, how was your weekend?"

The blond laughs. "Um, well, photography major, it was okay. Got wasted, which is always fun."

Biting his lip, Harry looks up from his book. "You weren't at Nick Grimshaw's party, were you?"

Niall's brows pull together. "Uh, yeah, think it was his dorm. Why?"

Shrugging, Harry highlights a random line of text. "Just wondering. I've heard that his parties get a bit wild, ya know? Like, people getting alcohol poisoning and dying in their sleep, wild."

"Oh. Yeah, his parties do take it a bit far, don't they?" Niall frowns, playing with a pen. Suddenly, the frown is replaced with a knowing smirk. "You worried about me, photography major?"

Harry blushes, head buried in his textbook. He knows Niall's teasing, but the Irishman is a lot closer to the mark than he thinks. "Um, yeah, a bit, actually. Sorry." He laughs.

With the smirk fighting to grow wider, Niall shrugs. "'S fine. I'd be worried too, if it were you."

They leave it at that, working in silence. Harry gets that feeling again, like he's been here before. Almost like this was a thing they've done every day before now. He pushes it aside, glancing up at the blond and outlining his features with his eyes. His strong jawline and slightly big nose, his cheekbones lightly dusted with freckles here and there, blond eyelashes sweeping at them when he blinks. As they work, Harry alternates between staring at Niall and actually doing what he needs to. When he looks up for the umpteenth time, Niall's lips tilt up on the side.

"You keep starin' at me like that, I'm gonna have to do something about it." He whispers, conscious of the students working around them.

Unable to help himself, Harry laughs. "Sorry, you're just really, um. Not gonna say it, never mind."

Niall looks at him, eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Biting his lip (he actually needs to buy new lip balm - maybe the strawberry kind), Harry shakes his head. "Um, was just gonna say you're gorgeous, is all. Sorry, I know it's weird and-"

"No, no, 's not!" The blond grins brightly. "You're not wrong, though, I am." Even as he jokes, his cheeks burn with a furious blush that rises up his cheeks and disappears down his shirt collar. He giggles a bit. "You are too, though. Gorgeous, I mean."

With a grin on his face, Harry thanks him and gets back to work. As he writes an essay on macro-photography and its uses, Harry can't help but notice how comfortable this is. How he feels at home, almost.

***

"So, um, I was just wondering, like," Niall starts. It's some time later, maybe an hour, and they're packing their things. Niall has an evening class, and Harry has to get to work.

"Sup?" Harry looks up to see a blushing Niall (which, in Harry's opinion, is the best kind of Niall).

"D'you wanna go out, like, to dinner or something? Like, as a date?"

"A - a date?" Harry asks, shocked. He's always had to make the first move when it came to asking people out."

Nodding, Niall runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I mean, unless you're not into-"

"No, I am," Harry interrupts, laughing. "I'm into blokes. Don't worry. Well, not exclusively, but. Mostly." He grins bashfully. "Sorry. Yes, I would like to go on a date with you."

"Oh, great. So um, I could give you my number? You can text me a day you're free, and we can meet up?" Niall pulls his phone out, seeming to almost not know what to do with his hands.

Harry nods vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, let's do it."

"Brilliant," Niall grins. They exchange numbers, then say goodbye.

Harry grins the entire way to work.

***

Harry works at a small diner just off-campus, the kind students go to in order to get away from the noise and cry over their classes. Harry doesn't necessarily _hate_ people, he thinks it's a mean word, but he knows that if he did, he'd hate all his coworkers. Except for Louis, the bright-eyed waiter who takes almost nothing seriously and pinches his bum every time Harry walks by.

"Lou, I just met the guy," Harry laughs. "I'm not gonna scare him off when we've only just exchanged numbers."

Louis raises a delicate eyebrows. "Exchanged? Harry, you make it sound like a business negotiation. You wanna shag the guy, not sell him your mum's house. How's she going with that, by the way? Getting anywhere?"

Shaking his head, Harry wipes down the table Louis is sitting at, slacker that he is. "She found this potential buyer, but he's kind of creepy, so. I dunno. And sod off."

Louis hums, taking a plate off of Harry's arm. Harry, naive guy that he is, thinks that Louis's finally gonna start helping him. Instead, Louis picks a chip up off the plate and pops it into his mouth, ignoring Harry's sound of disgust. "Shame. And fine. Anything else you feel like talking about?"

Giving up on productivity (because Louis is a bad influence), Harry sits. "No. Well...no."

The slightly smaller boy grins devilishly. "Well, now you _have_ to tell me."

With a breathy laugh, Harry explains his feeling of deja vu. "Like I know it's me remembering him, you know? I mean, by now I've probably done everything there is to do with him, but. I feel like I _know_ him. Like he's a friend from primary school and we've only just recently met again years after he moved away, you know?" He shakes his head. "I feel almost as if you could ask me a weirdly personal question about him and I'd know the answer because we're just _that_ kind of close, you know?"

Louis smiles. "Yes, Harry, I know." He leans his elbows on the table. "What's his favorite food?"

"Doesn't have one, thinks it'd make all the other food feel bad," is Harry's immediate reply. He looks up at Louis wide-eyed. "See?"

His friend narrows his eyes and juts his chin forward. "Text him and ask." Harry does so, and they wait in silence, staring at Harry's phone on the table between them. A text comes through, and they both make a grab for the phone. Louis grabs it first and pulls his elbows in close, resting the phone on his chest. Having figured out Harry's passcode long ago (Harry's mum's birthday), he unlocks it straight away.

He takes a full five minutes to read the text, then slides the phone over the Harry.

 **Niall:** don't have one, it would make all the other foods feel in add the quit

 **Niall:** what no i meant inuit

 **Niall:**  what the fuck it'd make all t other foods feel bad

Harry looks up at Louis, mouth hanging open.

Louis shrugs. "Your boyfriend's a dummy."

***

"C'mon, why won't you freaking answer?" Harry groans, leaning back in his chair. He runs his hand over his face, exhaling deeply.

He'd been quizzing Niall all throughout his work shift, Louis asking him a question while holding Harry's phone and texting Niall the same question. After deciding that he knew more than what was considered even remotely normal, Harry decided to call up his sister Gemma, who had a PhD in Reincarnation and Souls. She hasn't answered yet, though, and Harry's growing restless.

"What?" his roommate Zayn asks. He looks up from his sketchbook long enough to catch Harry's scowl. "Oh, are you still trying to talk to Gemma? I told you it's useless; the whole reincarnation thing is bull."

The curly haired boy frowns. "Didn't Muslims basically discover reincarnation?

Zayn, a Muslim, throws him a look that is positively _filthy_. "No, you dolt, that was Buddhists. In Islam you live, you die, and you either go with Allah or you don't. And since Islam is what I was raised with, I trust it more." He shakes his head. "You're so white sometimes it hurts."

"Hey," Harry snaps. "it's not like I'm taking classes on this stuff."

"Whatever, Haz." The brown boy mumbles.

They sit in silence for a few minutes until Harry cracks. "M'sorry, Zee, I didn't mean to insult you, I just. Thought it was basically the same things."

"Well it's not." His roommate sighs, running a hand over his shorn hair. "S'fine, Harry, you just. You gotta stop saying stuff like that about religions, man. You're lucky I'm a pacifist, or else I'd have punched you by now."

Harry nods. "You're right, and I'm really sorry. I won't do it again, I promise.

"Alright then." Zayn looks past Harry to his desk. "Your phone."

Harry turns in his chair. "Oh!" He cries. His sister is calling. "Gemma!" He presses the phone to his ear after accepting the call. "Gemma!"

"Harry!" She cries back. "What's the emergency, little bro? You've been calling nonstop all day, feels like."

"Okay, well, you study souls and shit for a living right?" Gemma makes an affirmative noise. "Right, so how could one prove that two souls have like, met before? In a past life?"

"Well, Harry, there's lots of brain and chemical work that has to happen on both ends, with both souls. Why? S'this for a class? Thought you were a photography major."

"No, no, just. J met a guy, right, and I knew everything about him! Or, no, not  _everything_ , but a lot of things! That he hasn't told me!"

"Really?" Gemma asks, sounding curious. "Well, Harry, I think you might've found your soulmate!" She sounds more excited than Harry feels. A lot more.

"My what now?" Harry splutters. Gemma laughs.

"Well, they haven't really been proven to exist, yet, since it's rare that this kind of connection happens, but, oh, when it does, it's just amazing! The brainwaves on both subjects and the chemical reactions their brains have when these two subjects meet is so astounding, and these brainwaves are just so in  _tune_ , and so perfectly chemically balanced that-"

"Gem, you're not making any sense, and I'm about to hang up right now."

"No! No, listen, I'm sorry, it's just. It's absolutely amazing, scratch that,  _mesmerizing_ , how in tune soulmates are on the mental level. Does he know anything about you?"

"I - I dunno, I haven't asked and he hasn't said." Stammers Harry.

"Harry, I - this is just so great! I - we need to meet up soon, oh, thank god we live on the same campus!"

And they do. Harry's sister is one of the most respected professors at the university, and the best professor one could ask for when studying souls. She's also received many awards and grants for her work.

They settle on meeting for lunch on Saturday, four days now. It's also the day he and Niall had settled on for their date during Harry's frantic Q&A session.

Gemma ends the call insisting that this is an amazing discovery. Harry can't say he feels the same.

***

"So, basically, humans are actually part whale." Louis concludes. Harry looks up in alarm.

"What on earth are you talking about?" He asks. Louis rolls his eyes.

"I was wondering when you'd tune back in," he mumbles. "I've been talking nonsense for the past twelve minutes, dummy. You were too busy in Harry World to notice."

"Oh!" Harry frowns. "Sorry, I just...this whole thing with Niall is just driving me insane. This whole soulmate thing is just...ugh." He shudders. "Quite a bit of commitment involved, you know?"

Louis frowns as well. "Haz, I know your sister is a genius when it comes to this stuff, but I think the whole soulmate concept is rubbish. Always have."

The other boy looks up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Louis nods, eyes wide, "I do. You can't possibly believe that of the billions of souls in the world, the same two could possibly find each other again. The world's a mess!"  He throws up his hands in exasperation, leaning back.

Harry fingers the dish towel lying in his lap. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Makes sense."

***

"Alright, so, hit me." Gemma says. They're sat in her office, and Harry feels like he's been sent to see the dean for disciplinary action.

"With what?" he drawls. He looks around and sees a fancy paperweight on her desk. He picks it up. "This?"

"No, Harry, with everything you know about reincarnation. I need to know what to fill you in on."

"Oh, well, um." He reaches over to scratch the ship on his bicep, rubbing it mindlessly. "Um, the lighter your eyes are, in like, shade, the older your soul is, or something like that. Erm, yeah. That's it."

Gemma's mouth drops. "That's it? Didn't you take the required reincarnation course in college?"

"Yeah, and I failed it because it was so damn confusing!" Harry laughs. "C'mon, Gems, just tell me what you meant about the whole soulmate thing."

Making a face, Gemma shakes her head. "Well, basically, people who think they've found their soulmate tend to know things about said soulmate without having been told these things, like in your case. Some people will regain memories that can in no possible way be their own, and their soulmate will experience them as well. It's really a very intricate dilemma, see, because there's no way to see if they really are soulmates. Although," she turns her computer monitor towards him, "as far as the brainwaves and chemical details I was telling you about on the phone, look here." There's two images of brains set up on the monitor, and the electric impulses look almost exactly alike. The same bursts of light from the same area at the same time. "This is what I mean. You'd think we just played the same footage twice, but no, okay, these are two different people. Their names are Ed Sheeran and Nina Nesbitt. We brought them in, what, a month ago, I dunno, and they had never even met each other, but they knew so much personal stuff about them. Harry, soulmates are real.They're right in front of you!"

Harry frowns. "I guess it makes sense, but...this is just one couple. How can someone know if anyone else is like this?"

Gemma raises her brows. "Would you like me to show you?"

Checking his phone, Harry shakes his head. "I really wish I could, I do, but I have to meet Niall in a half hour. I'm sorry, Gems, but thanks for the help, you know?" They say their goodbyes and Harry inputs the address for the date location into his phone's GPS, ready to get the hell out of there.

***

His sister's words ring bright and clear in Harry's head when he sees Niall walking towards him in the car park. He waves, and Niall grins. After checking the incoming traffic, Niall jogs the rest off the way to Harry. Slightly out of breath when he arrives, the Irishman awkwardly places his hand on the taller boy's arm for a beat. "Hi," he grins, and Harry smiles back, endeared.

"Hey. Um, did you wanna eat first? Cause there's a burger place around the corner if you wanted...."

"Nah, I'm good." He shrugs. "I might work one up, though, for after."

Harry nods. "Yeah, that's fine. We should go in, now, right? Yeah, we should go in. C'mon." He places a hand on the small of Niall's back, leading him to the two doors. When they push them open, Niall audibly gasps.

The dark room is lit up with bursts of light from the screens on the games. There's a small snack bar serving candy, hot dogs, chips, nachos, and stales pizza slices. Gabe's Gameroom in full of kids, parents, and teens. It's the city's most well-known arcade, and since Harry knows almost everything about him (including the first time he wanked, which...okay), he knows that Niall is a huge arcade-lover.

"Oh, my god, Harry," laughs Niall. "Me dad used to bring me to places like this all the time when I was a kid."

The grin on Harry's face hurts, it's so big. "Yeah," he hums. He pushes the blond forward, slipping a roll of tokens into his hand. "Go on, you pick first."

"Ooohhh, Pac-Man!" Niall squeaks. He grabs Harry's hand and pulls him toward the empty game. Harry places one hand against the side of the game as Niall slides in his tokens, leaning against the Irishman. The taller boy hides his ecstatic grin against his date's shoulder as he squeals when the game starts.

Niall commandeers the game, with Harry's occasional direction. The slightly smaller boy brings up moments from his childhood; when his dad first took him to an arcade, his first game, beating his dad's high score. His happiness level is just...through the roof. Harry is struck with a sudden memory.

"You know, this reminds of the first time we went to an arcade. I remember when you fell-" harry pauses, struck with shock.

"What're you talking about, Harry?" Niall laughs. He leans back against Harry, perfectly fitting with his body. "This is our first date." 

Harry can't answer. He's struck with images of a young couple, a boy and a girl, both about eight, running hand in hand towards an arcade. The boy falls, bringing the girl down with him, and they both pause for a bit, just looking at each other. Until the girl bites the boy's nose and runs away, laughing. 

"Uh, sorry, I was thinking about my sister and I but - you know, my memory has these, like, hiccups sometimes. Sorry. But, um, my  _sister_ fell, and I bit her um, her finger, and. Yeah." He tapers off quietly. Niall's Pac-Man gets eaten by Pinky, and he turns around.

"Harry." He says. He's in Harry's face, like,  _right there._

"Niall." Harry breathes. The Irishman's mouth tilts up on the side.

"I know. I saw it, too. S'weird, and. I've never heard of it before. But I saw it too."

"Oh, okay. So like, I'm  _not_ crazy?"

Niall's laugh bursts out of him. "No, you're not."

***

Harry ends up kissing Niall.

It's not anything serious, just a peck on the cheek. But he does it.

Niall had been waiting in line for a new shooter game, which had been added last month and is still fairly popular, when he saw the ski ball table and ran over. (it was the first time in the whole hour they'd been there that it was open.) He'd made it at the same time as some kid that didn't even reach Harry's waist, and they ended up arguing over it. (Harry thought it was fairly comical, as did the kid's mum.)

Then the kid's mum (or sister, whatever) suggests that they play for the table. Niall accepted, kicked the kid's tiny little arse, and Irish danced in celebration. Then, since Niall isn't just some giant jerk, he gave the kid his remaining three rolls of tokens and the table.

Harry couldn't help himself. He pressed his lips to Niall's cheek and...now they're eating pepperoni pizza and watching  _Horns_ on Harry's bed.

"This movie is so fucked up," Niall whispers, pizza help up to his mouth. 

"Yeah," Harry whispers back. He reaches for another slice of pizza, hand creeping along the cardboard box until he reaches it.

"Why is this a thing?" Niall mutters. "This is so - oh my god,  _what_ is happening?"  _  
_

"It looks like he's making him hallucinate? Or no, he's high, right? Cause he  _literally_ just ate a handful of cocaine, he's  _got_ to be high."

"I'm so confused." The blond laughs. Harry grins. 

Suddenly, the dorm room door flies open, and Zayn is standing there, covered in paint and smelling faintly of perfume. Niall raises a hand in greeting. "Hi."

Zayn nods in return. "Sup. M'Zayn." By now, he's moved into the room, closing the door and shucking off his soiled clothing, tossing it in a corner with no care in the world.

"Niall." He holds up the pizza box. "Pizza?"

"Nah, man, don't eat pepperoni. Or like, pork, in general," He gets dressed in new clothes then burrows himself into his blankets. "Please be shhh."

Laughing, Niall stands. "I'll take that as my cue to leave."

"Oh," Harry deflates. He pauses the movie. "I'll walk you out."

"It's fine, Haz, don't worry about it." Niall leans in and presses a kiss to Harry's cheek, lingering. "Bye." He shuts the door, and the last thing Harry sees is his grin.

"I'm gonna need a picture of that smile."

***

"I'm in the middle of a project, mum, so I'm sorry but this has to be quick."

"Alright, love, well I have good news, but I also need you to do me a favor." Harry hums. "Well, I've finally found someone who might actually be serious about the house-" Harry cheers "-yes, yes, it's exciting, but I'm going to be out of town to visit your gran the only day they're available to take the tour of the house. So, if you don't mind, I'd like you to give the tour instead. If not, I could always ask Gemma.

"No, it's fine, mum. What day's it?"

"Saturday, sweetheart."

"Alright. No problem. I've gotta go, though, my partner's giving me the evil eye. Love you, bye."

"Love you!"

***

So Harry's photography professor's a dick. Gave Harry a flat out zero on an assignment because apparently the pictures he and his partner took are 'good, but not  _good_ good, you understand?'

No, no Harry does not understand, but fine. And he'd be at least somewhat okay with it, if it weren't for the fact that his partner totally flaked out on him and said it was all his fault. And what's worse, the one time Harry consulted Zayn on whether or not a shoot looked good, and Zayn's artistic eye failed him. Wonderful.

And so Harry had gone out to take pictures and calm down, but even that didn't help because he got yelled at by a security guard who thought he was being a creep. And now? Now he's lying on a bench in the courtyard, arms slung over his eyes, camera resting on his chest, trying to take a nap. Except he hears someone coming his way, and he's kinda scared.

"Please don't mug me; all I've got is this camera and I literally sold my soul for it."

"I would never mug you, photography major." An Irish voice teases. "I like you too much."

"Oh! Hi, music major!" Harry removes his arm as Niall lifts his legs off the bench and sits underneath them, just to look at the Irishman.

"What're you doing out here? It's like, cold." Niall grins.

"Oh, was just blowing off some steam, didn't really have the best day. I was out here taking pictures but then I got yelled at, so I tried to take a nap, instead."

"Why'd you get yelled at? You're harmless."

"I was hiding in bushes and taking pictures of people changing in their dorms."

Harry watches Niall's expression gleefully, waiting for him to react. When Niall looks like he truly doesn't know what to say, he grins. "I'm joking. Was just taking pictures of people out here when a security guard yelled at me."

Niall lets out a large breath. "Oh, my god, I thought you were serious!" He lightly smacks one of Harry's boots. "You're an arse."

"You love my arse," says Harry cheekily.

"You don't  _have_ an arse." Niall retors. "Should maybe start doin' some squats, or something."

Harry cackles, surprised. Suddenly, Niall groans, throwing his head back. "I'm so hungry I could eat, like, a whole olive."

Harry raises his brow. "Just one olive, though. Two'll really fill you up, no one wants that."

Niall looks at him funny for a moment, then groans again. "I meant an avocado, jesus."

"Avocados and olives are nowhere near the same." Harry laughs.

"Whatever," Niall snorts. "They're both green."

***

Harry asks Niall to accompany him to his old home, and the blond agrees. He drives them down on Friday night, so that they can be there early enough to meet the potential buyer. When they get there, the two story house looms over him, and Harry feels like he's bringing a friend to sleepover for the first time.

He lets them in with a key from under the doormat, and Niall whistles. Harry feels his cheeks burn.

"I'll admit, we weren't the most financially incapable family. And it only looks so big cause its empty." He says defensively. Niall snorts, though not unkindly.

"How many rooms and bathrooms?" The Irishman asks.

"Um, four and four and a half, why?"

Niall shakes his head. "My whole house back home in Mullingar fits in your living room." He laughs. "Don't look so worried, Haz, I'm not bitter about it, 'm just sayin'."

They move further into the empty living room and set their stuff down. It's already dark, them having left late, and the room is bathed in weak moonlight, almost blocked out by clouds but not completely. Harry can see the darker patches of wall where the family photos used to hang.

"Damn," he mumbles. Niall looks at him, questioningly. "I'm feeling extremely nostalgic."

Niall's bark of laughter echoes in the empty room. "Well, let's order some pizza, crack open a beer, and get cozy. I've got a feelin' we'll be here a while."

***

Three hours later and Harry's lightly buzzing off the beer, Niall laughing at his lack of coordination.

"Shuttup, ya twat." He's grinning, though, so the affect is lost.

"Would you really be so rude to your soulmate, Harry?" Niall grins cheekily. 

Harry freezes. "What? I-I don't-"

Niall waves a hand, leaning back against his bag. "Come off it, mate. Your sister called me into her office couple days ago. Told me everything."

Harry sits up, frowning. "Niall, I am so sorry, I was just-"

"Confused, yeah? About knowing all the answers to those questions, and not knowing if you liked me yet. I know. An' its fine, Haz, cos I felt the same way. And that, um, vision thing in the arcade last week. It was, weird, I know." A lazy smile graces his feature, his cheeks ruddy from something that isn't alcohol.

Swallowing, Harry nods. "Yeah. Um, d'you believe the whole soulmate thing? Because my friend Louis doesn't and Gemma said it's not proven yet, but I don't know, I guess? Whether or not I believe in it yet, I mean." He twiddles with his fingers as Niall pulls himself up and shuffles close to Harry, right next to him.

"Not sure." His Irish accent is slightly slurred, but Harry doesn't know if he's tired or nervous, or what. Probably tired, Harry thinks. Niall doesn't seem the type to get nervous. The side of Niall's mouth quirks up. "But I know that if I did, I'd be super glad that you are my soulmate, photography major. Cos you're one of the bestest people I've ever met in this life, and I bet you in any other, as well."

Harry looks up, eyes meeting with Niall's, such a bright, yet pale blue, almost white in the light of the moon. "I'd be super happy, too, music major. And, I know it's probably too early to say I love you but I think I do, Because you make me feel- I don't even know. And I know I sound crazy right now, I mean we haven't even known each other for three weeks and I'm already in l-"

Niall presses his lips against Harry's, effectively cutting him off. They kiss, lips moving together as if they've done this before, as if this wan't the first time, wasn't a thing they've both craved for but a thing they've done countless times before.

And if it weren't for the fact that Harry is sitting in his childhood house, he'd make a statement about never feeling more at home.

Actually. 

It's a great pun, so he voices it aloud. All it awards him is an eye roll and a soft chuckle, but Harry still counts it as a win.

Niall himself is a win.

***

When Harry wakes up at around ten the next morning, its with Niall's arms wrapped all around him. The Irishman is like an extra warm blanket, hot everywhere he touches Harry, and humming deep in his chest. Or snoring, maybe, but humming sounds more romantic.

There's light spilling in through the windows and the balcony doors, bathing Niall's face in a golden light. His eyes blink open slowly, and his eyes look like pure diamonds, they're so clear.

He groans quietly and presses Harry tighter to himself for a moment, then lets go. He reaches up to push back some of Harry's (very long) hair. He smiles softly, still sleepy. 

"Mornin'," he says, voice rough and low. He clears his throat. "Last night was fun."

Harry blushes and pushes his face into the blonde's chest, laughing. "I think that's the first time I've ever stayed up all night kissing someone." He groans.

"I wouldn't say all night. You fell asleep on me about halfway through."

Harry groans louder. "Ugh, that's so embarrassing." 

Laughing, Niall lightly shoves Harry away. "Nah, s'fine. But what is embarrassing is morning breath. So I'm gonna go brush m'teeth."

"I'll show you the guest bathroom. Hopefully the water's on, otherwise we'll have to use water bottles."

***

The person who wants to rent the house is a gender fluid one who prefers "them/they" pronouns, which Harry respects but is slightly confused by. Does he call them sir or ma'am? He doesn't know, so he keeps going "Uh, right, yeah."

It's so embarrassing even Niall's silently laughing at him.

"So, uh, right, yeah, this is the basement. When I lived here with my mum, we put up a couple walls, making the fourth bed and bath down here, and we also put in a fireplace, so. And then the laundry room's down here, too, and all the full bathrooms that have showers have a laundry shoot in them." He explains. The potential buyer nods, looking intrigued. 

"Right, right," they hum.

Harry and Niall lead them back upstairs to the kitchen, and offer them some tea. Thankfully the water and heat were on, so they wouldn't have to light a fire or something.

Once the three of them sit, the potential buyer takes a very deep breath, inhaling the steam from their tea. They hum happily.

"Oh, I love a good cuppa." They smile. "Really clears up an aura, opens up the chakras, you know?"

Harry nods, "Totally." He doesn't, but the potential buyer has been saying things akin to that all day. They're very spiritual, in a sense. Niall covers up a laugh with a cough.

"Speaking of aura's, both of yours are absolutely lovely. So in tune, so blended that its almost as if you're one person. Tell me, are you dating?"

Niall nods happily. They had officially settled it the night before, Harry asking Niall. "Yes, we are. Have been for a couple weeks, now, haven't we, Haz?"

"Yeah, Niall, we have. Um, are you seeing anyone?" He reverts the conversation back to the buyer. Three years of working in that diner have taught him that customers like that kind of thing.

"Oh, dear me, no. Haven't dated in years! It clogs up my chakras. Finished your tea yet, Harry?"

Harry looks down at his just-drained cup. "Yes-"

The buyer snatches the cup out of his hands, staring into it. "Hm...you're a photographer, a very happy spirit. You're...in love with...oh, you're in love with Niall, here! And...your lifeline is tied with someone's...presumably Niall's. And your lifeline is also kind of long but you haven't yet reached your end. And you, my little Irishman, let me see yours." They make grabby hands for it.

Niall drains the last couple of dregs quickly, and slides over the cup.

"You're a musician, also very happy spirit. You're in love with Harry as well...lifeline is tied to Harry's, of course, and...eh, oh dear." The buyer looks up, eyes wide. Harry and Niall lean forward.

"What? What is it?" Niall asks.

"Dear, which is your dominant hand?" They ask carefully.

Niall frowns. "My left. I-I write with my left. Why? What's that got to do with anything?"

The potential buyer sits up straight. "Dear, I'm afraid this is your last life. Your eyes...well, I didn't want to assume, but your tea leaves say it all. After this life, your soul will not return to the earth."

Harry and Niall gape at them, then each other, then them again.

"Alright." The buyer claps their hands together. "When do I sign the lease?"

***

"Where's professor Styles?" Harry asks a passing professor. They let him know that she's in Soul Testing Room One, and he pulls Niall along. When they get there, Harry walks right in.

"Gemma," he calls. She looks up from the other side of the room, where she's standing behind someone with those sticky things on her temple.

"Harry? What are you doing, you can't be in here," she cries. Turning off a machine, she says something to her subject's ear.

Harry and Niall approach her. "I have some questions, Gem, and you're the only person I could think of who'd know the answers."

Gemma sighs,"Fine then. But we need to take this to my office." She leads them to said office, and offers them candy from a bowl she has on her desk when they sit. They decline. "What's your question?"

Leaning forward, Harry places his elbows on his knees, "What do eyes have to do with a soul?"

Gemma's face lights up. "Oh, that's a great question, Harry! Well, according to many scientists, the shade of one's eye color dictates how far along they are in the hundred life mark-"

"Which is?"

"Um, well, its quite self-explanatory, actually. Means you've lived a hundred lives. As far as anyone can tell, that's all you get. A hundred." She looks between them. "The lighter the eyes are, the further along they are."

"And being left handed?" Niall speaks up, finally. "What's that mean?"

Gemma gasps, "Oh! Oh no, Niall. You're not...oh, but your eyes are just too clear not to be."

"Not to be what, Gemma?" Harry snaps.

She sighs. "To be on your hundredth life, Harry. Being left handed means you've reached the end of your soul's distance."

***

They sit in silence for about five minutes, which Harry has learned has to be a new personal best for Niall. Niall, who's staring blankly at Gemma's wooden desk.

"I dunno why we're acting so grave," he chuckles, lifelessly. "Not like I'm gonna remember any of it, or even be aware of it in the next life. Or, whatever comes next, I guess."

"Plant life," Gemma mumbles. "You live one hundred lives as a human, then you're a plant for the rest of...time, I guess."

Harry gawks at his sister. "You're not serious? He's gonna die and then just turn into a flower or something?"

"As far as we can tell, it's what happens to everyone, and it's inevitable." Gemma argues. She turns to Niall, apologetic. "Just don't worry about it, Niall. Even if your soul cycle weren't over, you wouldn't remember anything from this life."

Niall nods. "You're right. But...what about Haz?" His blue eyes - so light and pretty they can stare right through you - meet Harry's green ones. "If we're supposed to be soulmates, then what happens to Harry when I don't come back?"

"Well," Gemma says slowly, "his soul would understand, and definitely mourn your loss, but his next life wouldn't comprehend, would probably become depressed or just be an extremely free spirit. Might not ever fall in love again, either."

Frowning, Harry nods. "Makes sense, I guess." He looks at Niall. "Don't, like, dies anytime soon, got it?"

Startled, the Irishman laughs brightly. "I don't plan on it, Haz. But the same goes for you too, alright?"

The curly haired boy smiles. "You've got yourself a deal, mate."

"Aw," Gemma coos. "You guys probably don't understand, but you're seriously cute." She laughs, then puts on a serious expression. "Okay, but you guys either need to leave now, or volunteer to be my test subjects."

Niall's brow perks up. "What're you testing?"

Harry's sister grins. "Soulmates and whether or not they're real."

"Oh. That's cool," Niall says. "But eh, I have a-a class, you know, so..."

"Today's Saturday, you knob," Gemma laughs.

"Oops, but we're gonna leave now, bye." Harry pull Niall out of the office, the two of them laughing as Gemma swears after them.

***

"You look -ow!-ridiculous." Harry lowers his camera. "Zayn, you arse, I've told you not to throw stuff at me while I'm taking pictures!"

Zayn laughs, tongue tucked between his teeth, while Niall cackles in the background. "Sorry, Harry, you're just a really easy target."

Harry scoffs. "That's called harassment, you prick. Now, Niall, get my pants off your head and stop leaning out the window or you'll fall."

Still laughing, Niall hops back into the room and pulls off Harry's pants. "You're so boring, Haz. Don't tell me you've never done that before, the window's perfect for it."

"He has, he just fell out." Zayn confirms, then lets out a yelp when Harry throws a textbook at him. "Prat."

"You're a prat, you prat." Harry snaps.

"Oh, you're so original, Harry," Zayn sneers. 

Harry's brow furrows. "That was sarcasm, right?"

Snickering, Zayn doesn't even bother to answer. Niall climbs onto Harry's bed, shoes and all (until Harry reprimands him with a light slap on his good knee), and fingers all the cameras on the shelf. There's about eight in all, and none of them have a speck of grime.

"How'd you get into all this anyway?" The blonde asks curiously. "The photography stuff, I mean."

Zayn groans, "Oh, please do not get him started on that. He will not stop until you're both fifty."

"Heyyyy," Harry whines. "Not true. I'll only keep you here till we're forty." He grins brightly and kicks off his boots before climbing onto the bed wit Niall. "Okay, so this one was a gift from my granddad when I was a kid, like nine or something." He picks up the first camera on the shelf. "This is what really got me into it, but I had no idea how to work it so my mum taught me-" he grabs the next one, putting the first one back. "This one, like, a year later. Then my dad found out, and since they'd been divorced by then, he decided to one up my mum and got me a better one for my next birthday." He puts it back. "It went on like that till I started here, and my parents were, like, competing. I didn't care though, I got a new camera each year."

Niall hums. "It's cool, yeah, cos you kept getting more cameras...s'pretty messed up how your parents used you to one up each other, inn'it?"

Humming, Harry fiddles with the lens cover of his favorite camera. "Um... you know, I never thought of it that way, I was...a spoiled kid growing up, I guess. I was just always shutting the arguments they'd have out, ya know?"

Niall nods. "Yeah, my parents divorced when I was a kid, too. I definitely know what you mean."

There's a brief pause, up until Zayn says, "Well my parents are still together, and if you two are going to cry about how yours aren't, let me know now, please."

With a simultaneous look of mischief, Harry and Niall both jump onto Zayn's bed, crowding and yelling nonsense in his ear.

***

Harry and Niall sit in Niall's dorm a couple days later, Niall fiddling with his guitar, and Harry typing down different years. 

"Hey, how's this sound?" Niall asks, then plays a pretty sick riff if you ask Harry.

"A plus, babe." Harry compliments. Niall grins at the term of endearment. "Alright, so, first year is 1912." He looks up at Niall, who shows no sign of emotion. "No? Me neither." 

"Why're we doing this Haz?" Niall whines. "Why can't we just make out or something?" He grins cheekily.

"Because, music major, this is the closest thing we have to figuring out our past! Don't you wanna know if we're really soulmates or not?"

With his expression as serious as Harry's ever seen it, Niall lays his hand flat on the guitar strings, silencing it completely. "Harry Edward Styles, I don't need some stupid data to tell me whether or not I'm justified enough to love you. Soulmates or not, I love you, Harry. Nothing can change my mind, not even the fact that in the next life I might not be anything more than a clump of four leaf clovers. So please...let's just...stop."

Chewing on his lip, Harry stares at his boyfriend. "You said you love me."

Niall rolls his eyes, smiling. "You literally said it not even a full week after our first date, Haz. Calm down."

Grinning, Harry nods. "Okay. Then I'll just-" he deletes the note he had pulled up on his phone, with all the years. "Still think it was a good idea, but whatever."

"Harry, you wanted to list off random years and see if we would feel anything!" Niall laughs. "S'not a good idea, no offense."

As they bicker back and forth, Harry can't help but notice that he's never had this much fun fighting with anyone, even his sister. It's something that he notices a lot with Niall, the fact that he enjoys himself more while doing things with the Irishman. Maybe it's because they're soulmates, maybe its because they're in love. But either way, Niall James Horan, music major, is the best person Harry has ever met, in this life, or any other.

And that's that.

 

FIN


End file.
